Ashes of Roses
by White as Sin
Summary: Is it truly better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? Memories plague the mastermind, but does he truly want them to cease? Pegasus Angst
1.

Ashes of Roses  
  
~*~  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Genre: Angst  
  
Warning/Spoilers: Alcohol use, Pegasus's back story, angst  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh! or the lyrics to Adesso e Fortuna (the theme song to Record of Lodoss War).  
  
Summary: Is it truly better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? Memories plague the mastermind, but does he truly want them to cease? Pegasus Angst  
  
~*~  
  
"En vino, veritas."  
  
"In wine, truth."  
  
~*~  
  
"Sir?"  
  
I turned slightly, a slight frown crossing my face. "Yes?"  
  
Croquet hesitated for a moment before murmuring, "In cleaning the guest rooms, some of the maids found an interesting chest."  
  
"And?" I demanded irritably. "What does that have to do with anything?" My glass hit the table with a sharp clinking noise, perhaps a touch too harshly, as the red vintage inside sloshed violently against the fluted edges like an angry scarlet sea.  
  
"It is marked with the name of Cyndia."  
  
My heart stopped for a moment. But I quickly regained my composure. "Have it brought up to my room. If it is locked, get it open, but do not damage it."  
  
"Yes sir." He bowed and swept off.  
  
I sat in silence for a long moment, paying no heed to my wine or my graphic novel. "Five years," I murmured, bowing my head so silver strands of hair covered both gold and mahogany eyes. "Five long years." Something scorched my face and I felt moisture on the back of my hand. A tear. I was crying.  
  
Hastily, I raised my hand to rub away at my solitary organic eye. I would not show weakness. Not now.  
  
~*~  
  
The chest was at the foot of my bed, mocking me with words engraved upon the ornate brass lock. Cyndia. Cautiously, I approached and with trembling hands, opened the trunk.  
  
The late afternoon sun poured pools of molten gold upon the wealth of fabrics that dwell within the trunk. Cyndia's gowns dwelt in there, pools of faded silks and radiant satins. My hands continued to tremble as I slowly lifted each gown from the trunk, reverently laying each one out on the floor. I thought she had sold her fabulous garments, to help make ends meet when I declared my independence from my father and walked out of his mansion a disowned man.  
  
But this was still left, when she was gone.  
  
I traced the beautiful embroidery upon a crushed velvet bodice, a sad smile upon my face. Her favorite perfume lingered pleasantly in the air, like roses blooming upon a warm summer evening. I could almost see the scene, silvery moonlight caressing blood-red petals as night birds softly sang and the air was still and redolent with the scent of roses.  
  
The velvet crumpled under my fingers, too much like dead rose petals easily crushed to powder. I lifted the gown with the red rose velvet bodice to my face, smelling that so sweet perfume and Cyndia's own lovely scent. How I remember she loved to wear this dress when Christmas came.  
  
~*~  
  
The house was brightly lit, a beacon within the bleak surrounding grounds. Inside, the many Yuletide ornaments glittered, shimmered, or glowed according to their nature. Holly and ivy were twined together on the mantels of the many fireplaces, evergreen garlands mated with red ribbons winding about the shining banisters. At least half a dozen Christmas trees stood within the foyer alone, decorated with gold baubles and ribbons, shining gold and silver stars bedecking the tops of each one.  
  
People lingered throughout the rooms, in their holiday garb and chattering idly. Though it seemed like a happy scene, their voices were sharp in their feigned gaiety and their eyes hungrily took in the wealth of their surroundings.  
  
But upstairs, within a dimly lit room, a young man sat, having no interest in the festivities below. His silvery hair fell about his face as he bent over his desk, working on some paper or other. A soft tap came at the door.  
  
"Master Pegasus?" a female's voice called. "Your father requests that you come down, to take part of tonight's celebration."  
  
"Tell him that I have no inclination to be mingling with the leeches and vultures downstairs called ladies and gentlemen," the man said in an icy voice that rivaled the harsh kiss of the icicles hanging from the eaves just outside.  
  
"But-"  
  
"Tell him I will not be coming down." The boy's tone held the chilling tone of finality that belonged to one who was used to having orders carried out.  
  
"Yes sir." There was the sound of shoes tapping on the floor as the woman went away.  
  
He had just quelled the rising anger in his chest when there was another knock. At the sound, he jumped, his pen leaving a long streak upon his paper. Scowling, he got up, heading to the door.  
  
"Now look here-" he started, flinging open the door, but stopped in his tracks.  
  
Cyndia stood there, like an angel sent from above. Her slim form was adorned in a gown of white silk and crushed red velvet, the bodice and skirt patterned with roses. She still wore her covering; a white wool cape and hood trimmed with white fur and dusted with snow. In her hands was a neatly wrapped box.  
  
"Cy-Cyndia!" he stammered, taking a step back. "I'm sorry. I d-d-didn't know it was you!"  
  
But she gently set her gloved hand on his lips, entering the room. "I know. Merry Christmas, Pegasus." She smiled and it was like dawn had come.  
  
He flushed red. "M-M-Merry Christmas, Cyndia."  
  
"Here." She offered him the box, smiling her gentle smile. "I wanted to be sure to you got this."  
  
"Thank you," he said, still slightly bemused at her sudden appearance.  
  
"Well, open it, silly!" she said, prodding him playfully.  
  
He managed to get his fingers to cooperate with him, pulling apart the paper to reveal a sketchbook, pencils, charcoals, and a carrying bag for them. "Oh, Cyndia.-" he breathed in wonder, his hand brushing over the smooth leather of the bag. "How- did you know?"  
  
"Never let go of your dream, Pegasus," she whispered, holding his hands in her own, slim ivory fingers entwining gently about his own long, awkward ones. "You have talent. Use it."  
  
"I will," he murmured to her. "And all my pictures will be of you." He bent slightly and kissed her, feeling her sweet lips mold into his, becoming one.  
  
~*~  
  
I sat up immediately, the smell of roses strong in my nostrils. Brushing away the shadows of dreams, I gazed down at the red and white gown on my lap. White for her purity, red for the deep, deep rose she loved so much.  
  
Gently, I set it away, blinking away tears. Was it just my imagination, or did it seem like there was the scent of candle wax and evergreens mingled in the heavy scent of flowers in the cloth?  
  
It was only a dream, a memory that was swiftly fading away. I choked back bitter tears.  
  
~*~  
  
Wh00t!  
  
Adrian: Idiot. Those butterfly brains at your school are rubbing off.  
  
And if they are?  
  
Adrian: You're turning into one of them.  
  
ARGGHHHH!!! The horror!!!! *screams, running off*  
  
Adrian: /smirks/  
  
Ken: Is it safe for me to come out?  
  
Adrian: Yeah. How was that AA meeting?  
  
Ken: It went well. You know, it actually helps a lot.  
  
Adrian: That's the point, kid. /offers tea/  
  
Ken: /sips/ Thanks.  
  
Ken-chan!! /flyingtackleGLOMP/  
  
Ken: Gah! /falls over/  
  
Adrian: Why the HELL are you wearing your kendo outfit?  
  
^^V I'm going to be Hisoka-kun for AX 04!  
  
Adrian: . . . It's December.  
  
So? Good to plan ahead. Now help me look for a good costume for my friend Benj. I want him to be JJ from FAKE but he refused. I think he'll be cute as JJ. He's all hyper and bouncy.  
  
Adrian: /sighs, sulkily pulling down a poster of Benj/  
  
/in a white lab coat/ And readers, I need YOUR help to find a costume for him. /points to the picture/ He's a tall, Caucasian male. His nose is somewhat beaky, his eyes range in color from blue-gray to green-gray. He has dirty blonde hair that's in a choppy, messy sort of cut. He's very gangly, with large hands and feet. But he loves to laugh a lot and he can be incredibly hyper and genki.  
  
A list of anime/manga he has knowledge of:  
  
FAKE  
  
Cardcaptor Sakura  
  
Inuyasha  
  
Digimon 01 and 02  
  
Yu-gi-oh!  
  
I'm getting him to read X by Clamp and several other series. But note, people, he's very sensitive about shounen-ai when it applies to him (Hence the JJ incident) so be careful when recommending. Cross cosplay isn't discouraged, but I'm not sure. Benj can be adventurous, but he's no drag queen. Also, don't be afraid to recommend different animes/mangas! Just as long as you send a link for a picture or very clearly state the series. Arigatou gozaimasu, minna-san! /waves and bows/ 


	2. 

Chapter 2  
  
~*~  
  
Yay! Hi everyone!  
  
/crickets chirp/  
  
T.T I'm unloved.  
  
Adrian: Big deal.  
  
/smack/  
  
Adrian: /swirly eyed/ Anyone get the number of the bus?  
  
Smartass. Any of YOU care to make anymore comments?  
  
Muses: /back away slowly/  
  
Well. I'm glad to have at least ONE suggestion. ^^ Thanks. I already thought of Joey though and he's willing enough to do it. Anymore suggestions, please?  
  
Adrian: /still knocked out/  
  
~*~  
  
A clutch purse of silver beads and satin and a winter coat of blue-gray wool soon joined the gowns after, each redolent of rose perfume. I smiled slightly, fingers tenderly caressing a light summer dress of her favorite periwinkle blue and rose pink.  
  
~*~  
  
She was laughing at him, teasing him as she ran through the sweet flowers and fragrant grasses. "Come and catch me!" she shouted, hitching up her skirts so they would not get in her way.  
  
And chase her he did, gladly. Her form wove in and out of view, her slender legs carrying her farther, like a graceful doe. He finally captured her, his arms wrapping about her slim waist and spinning her round while she shrieked and laughed.  
  
It was summer, the height of life as they celebrated it like spirits of the wood, eternally youthful, eternally happy. Nothing mattered to them, only the presence of each other and the day that blossomed about them. How it seemed it would never end.  
  
~*~  
  
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes and I hastily brushed them away with the cuff of my red jacket. The air seemed to be lighter, smelling of sunshine and flowers blooming. Yet over it was the lingering smell of roses.  
  
Oh Cyndia.  
  
Why did you have to leave me?  
  
Beneath two more gowns of fading sapphire and deep rose, I encountered a mass of white. My fingers traced over intricate white-on-white embroidery, painstakingly detailed beadwork, and designs of crystal sequins. A mask of white feathers and pearls accompanied it, long plumes dropping gracefully, perhaps to grace a lovely face and fall over long golden hair.  
  
~*~  
  
She surveyed the party beneath her through the eyeslits of the mask, looking like an angel in every sense of the word. There was serenity about her, as well as beauty. No, not simple, physical beauty, that was useless, but real beauty, a light that shone from beneath the mask of flesh and bone. She was like a queen, white-gloved fingers trailing on the rich wood of a banister.  
  
Her steps were light, heels clicking softly upon the floor. She seemed to float, rather than walk, Cinderella making her appearance. But she was confident, proud as any well-loved monarch.  
  
He was waiting for her at the bottom, transfixed by this angel. But in contrast to her white, he was in black, a masked imp. She came to him and he blushed, his head ducking shyly and causing the drooping black plumes of his mask to sway. They stood there, an angel and demon, like sun and shadow. Then he went to one knee and silently begged for her hand. She granted that request easily, and he brushed his soft lips to the fabric gently.  
  
He would have continued to stay on one knee, forever in reverence to this lovely vision, but she pulled him up. All the masked people in the room watched both of them, in awe and in wistful admiration. But it mattered not to the white woman and the black man.  
  
She made a low courtesy to him, he a sweeping bow. The quartet of string players, all masked and tucked away into a gallery of red silk and gold barding, glanced at one another and began to play. A lovely, nymph-like young woman stepped to a slightly elevated platform and began to sing. While the musicians were in deepest of greens and white, she was in faded gold, like a fairy of the autumn, her rich hair falling down her back.  
  
"tsukiakari  
  
kaze no haoto ni oriru  
  
aoi mizu no ue no yoru."  
  
'Moonlight  
  
comes down through the fluttering wings of the wind,  
  
above the blue waters of the night.'  
  
The imp led the angel to a sweeping waltz to the haunting music. All other dancers gracefully stepped aside, to let sun and shadow dance.  
  
"itsu made mo  
  
sameyaranu yubisaki de  
  
omoi wo tsudzuru."  
  
'with warm finger-tips,  
  
composing memories  
  
forever.'  
  
They had no eyes but for each other, the music the only other thing registering to their deaf ears.  
  
"Io sono prigioniera."  
  
'I am your prisoner.'  
  
He loved her so, his movements and eyes proclaimed. She loved him more, her own gestures and gaze answered back.  
  
"watashi wo  
  
senaka kara dakishimete  
  
sasayaku anata no kuni no kotoba wa  
  
sukoshi dake  
  
setsunai ROMANTI-KU  
  
anata no toriko."  
  
'Embrace me  
  
tightly from behind.  
  
The foreign words you whisper to me  
  
are a bit  
  
heart-rending and romantic.  
  
I am your prisoner.'  
  
Indeed, they were prisoners, prisoners of love. The nymph crooned the words, the music flowing like liquid emotion through the air, wrapping about the dancers in a protective, beautiful cocoon.  
  
"Io sono prigioniera  
  
kon'ya anata wa  
  
watashi wo yasashiku tsutsunde kureta  
  
keredo asa no hi ni  
  
terashite mo kuroi  
  
hitomi wa watashi ni sono mama kirameku no."  
  
'I am your prisoner  
  
Tonight, you  
  
held me tenderly.  
  
Even after the morning light comes,  
  
your dark eyes  
  
are still shining before me.'  
  
The nymph stopped singing for a moment, allowing the quartet to continue her song. Softly, the imp brushed his lips at his angel's brow, feeling feathers and beads under his seeking lips. The angel raised her head, her lips parting softly.  
  
"mou ichido  
  
watashi wo fukai yoru ni  
  
tsuremodoshite kata koto no AMO-RU."  
  
'Once more,  
  
please bring me into the deep night  
  
with those half-said words of amour.'  
  
The nymph had begun to sing again, her eyes closed as she sang like a caged bird, putting her soul into the song as it soon came to a finale. It was all the sweeter to the sole couple upon the ballroom floor.  
  
"sukoshi dake  
  
ayashige na kuchibiru ga  
  
watashi wo tokasu  
  
Io sono prigioniera  
  
kon'ya anata wa  
  
watashi wo yasashiku tsutsunde kureta  
  
keredo asa no hi ni  
  
terashite mo kuroi  
  
hitomi wa watashi ni sono mama kirameku no."  
  
'Your dangerous  
  
but attractive lips  
  
melt me.  
  
I am your prisoner.  
  
Tonight, you  
  
held me tenderly  
  
Even after the morning light comes,  
  
your dark eyes  
  
are still shining before me.'  
  
The music slowly drifted away as the angel and demon shared a soft, fleeting kiss in the very center of the floor.  
  
~*~  
  
Tears ran freely down my face now. I absently toyed with the white cloth, not caring of what damage my saline tears could do to the aged fabric. There was something moving, falling down the folds of cloth and landing on the ground with a decisive clunk. I picked it up with trembling hands. It was a music box, a lovely, delicate little thing of pink enamel and gold. My fingers found the little key at the base, twisting it slowly, and opened the top. The ghostly strains of Adesso e Fortuna wrapped about me in tinkling bell tones. My favorite song.  
  
/Our/ song.  
  
We had danced to it at our wedding, at the masque to celebrate our union. But now it was gone. Nothing but memories and aging garments in a dilapidated trunk. And the little mechanical box continued to sing in a tinkling, bell-like voice.  
  
~*~  
  
I kept the music box, ordering gowns and trunk to be put away, hidden from my sight. It sat upon my nightstand, twinkling innocently in the lamplight. I sipped at one last glass of wine, letting the bitter, rich alcohol carry me to oblivion. As another ritual, I found myself winding the key to the music box before I slipped in between silken sheets and let myself sink into dreamless sleep.  
  
Before I let darkness claim me however, I felt a soft touch, like a kiss, upon my lips, a breeze bringing the heavy scent of roses to my nostrils. Someone whispered an endearment as I sailed to the shores of sleep. And in the background, a little music box tinkled my wedding song.  
  
~*~  
  
Cheers! [hic!]  
  
Adrian: /shakes head, picking up bottle/ Sparkling grape juice. Now that is just SAD. /starts running away/  
  
Jerk.  
  
Ken: /steals bottle/ My precious.  
  
Adrian: /sighs, reaches over and takes it away/ You just finished therapy. You don't need anymore. Our budget IS limited you know.  
  
Ken: NO!! Precious!  
  
Adrian: /looks at bottle then at Ken, promptly breaks bottle on Ken/  
  
Ken: /knocked unconscious/ x.x;;  
  
Adrian: Sorry you had to see that. /drags Ken off/  
  
Review, please? 


End file.
